And We All Fall Down
by Adreus
Summary: sorry, on hiatus — "Orihara-kun, are you aware of the existence of a separate plane on which adolescents and adults that choose to do so play a risk-it-all-to-win-it-all game for their lives? Orihara-kun, are you afraid of death?"
1. Game start

**Summary: **The Reaper's Game. An underground Game in Shibuya, where people play for one thing: their lives. After Shibuya's last Game, the people are stunned and the official reapers are left with small numbers. But the Composer doesn't run just one game – now it's Ikebukuro's turn. Problem? Joshua's bored, and he wants this round to be unlike any he's ever seen before. In Ikebukuro, everyone is connected.

**Author's Note: **I'm surprised that no one else has done a _Durarara‼_ and _The World Ends With You_ crossover. Maybe I didn't look hard enough. Maybe it's particularly difficult and I haven't yet noticed. Maybe it's because both series are so exceptionally _good _that people are afraid to try it out. Whatever the case, as I wrote this I could only think of one thing: who's the bigger ass? Izaya, or Joshua?

**Disclaimer: **_The World Ends With You_ is property of Square Enix; _Durarara‼ _is property of Ryohgo Narita and Suzuhito Yasuda. I do not claim any rights.

* * *

**And We All Fall Down**

_Durarara‼ × The World Ends With You_

* * *

_- Kanra-san has entered the chat -_

_[Kanra] _'Evening!~

_[Setton] _Hey.

_[Setton] _What's up, Kanra-san?

_[Tanaka Taro] _Good evening!

_[Kanra] _Ooh~ I picked up a new Square Enix game!

_[Setton] _What, Final Fantasy 49?

_[Tanaka Taro] _Good one, Setton-san! w

_[Kanra] _Nonono!

_[Kanra] _It's for the DS—

_[Kanra] _"Subarashiki Kono Sekai"

* * *

"Orihara Izaya."

An apartment in Shinjuku, small, strange, and shady. There was an interesting game being played on the chess board, and a disembodied head was left on the coffee table. A children's animé, its volume low, was being played on the television. The owner of the apartment wasn't a child, however, and he wasn't baby-sitting either. Rather, Orihara Izaya, the infamous informer, was seated comfortably in his swivel chair at the computer desk, his back to his current customer. Said customer – a teenager, whom Izaya could decipher to be no older than fifteen, maybe sixteen – sat in the client's chair in front of him. It was not the typical set up for one of the informer's appointments, but the client in this case was not quite so typical to begin with, and the appointment had been unscheduled.

Orihara Izaya was not one to be surprised often, and even less so was he genuinely annoyed (as would be the case with Heiwajima Shizuo). But the person in front of him was very unique; just looking at him made Izaya feel… threatened. After all, what was a boy like him doing in Shinjuku, where Izaya, posing 21, barely fit in? And how did this boy, whom Izaya had never heard of or seen, know so much about him without having tripped any alarms? Namie slipped through his mind and he scowled before adopting the best holier-than-thou face he could muster, twirling around, and facing his customer.

"You've heard of me," he said simply.

The boy snickered. Twirling his blonde hair with a single finger, he replied, "Oh, of course. It's quite an interesting name, by the way. I suppose that's something we have in common."

Izaya raised an eyebrow curiously. "In common?"

The boy chose to ignore the young man's question, instead opting to ask his own. He was smirking when he stood easily and walked to the television, switching it off so that there was no noise in the background and so that he could have Izaya's full attention. "Orihara-kun," the boy pressed as he walked around the room, seemingly searching for any bugs that might be in place, "are you afraid of death?"

Izaya's heart, normally cold and never surprised, skipped a beat.

That was an interesting question. A very interesting question indeed. The fact that the boy had asked it took precedence over the boy's choice of honorifics. Very suddenly Izaya's invisible guard soared to heights it did not often go to. After all, it wasn't often that he found himself in situations where the customer knew more than the informer. Manipulation being one of Izaya's main weapons, he absolutely _hated _it when something like this happened. Izaya was normally on top; that was where he liked it, and that was where he belonged.

Of course there was the possibility that the boy was making small talk, but inwardly, Izaya knew this not to be true.

"That's quite an interesting question." Outwardly, Izaya pretended otherwise.

The boy raised one perfect eyebrow, asking only, "Is it?"

Izaya, for once, was not in the mood to play games. "Are you here for a reason, kid?" he asked, allowing his irritation to seep through his plastic smile.

The boy's smirk melted into a frown. Returning to the client's chair and crossing his arms, he spoke now in a way that made Izaya feel like a witness in court. "Orihara-kun, are you aware of the existence of an 'underground'? A separate plane on which adolescents and adults that choose to do so play a risk-it-all-to-win-it-all Reaper's game in order to win back their lives?"

It sounded like the back story of some manga or maybe a video game; Izaya eyed the case of a game he'd bought only recently, sitting innocently on his shelf, and laughed like it was one of the most childish things that had ever been suggested to him. The boy narrowed his eyes, unimpressed by Izaya's laughter. The informer then stopped, and adopting a deadly serious expression, asked, "You mean to say the one in Shibuya?"

It was the other's turn to laugh. "Well done, Orihara-kun! You're more informed than I originally thought!" Izaya didn't know whether he should have thanked the kid or pulled out his flickblade. A dark smile decorating the boy's features, he went on, "This will be the start of a beautiful relationship."

Izaya wasn't aware that there was ever going to _be_ a relationship, let alone that it would be beautiful. Narrowing his eyes, his only inquiry was "Who are you?"

"Me? Why, I'm Kiryu Yoshiya," he answered coolly, "but Mother and Father call me Joshua."

* * *

_Let the Game Begin_.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Answer: Joshua.

Criticism? Comments?


	2. Trust me, trust me, trust me

**Author's Notes:** I have now studied a map of Ikebukuro. I am thoroughly convinced that if I ever visit Tokyo, I'll feel like both a loser and a genius at the same time.

_Ikefukuro-zo_ is an owl statue near Ikebukuro Station that is treated similarly to Hachiko (as in it's a popular place to meet up).

Izaya's name (phonetically) is the Japanese pronunciation of Isaiah. Isaiah is a biblical figure. Joshua is, too, and it comes from Yeshua, which becomes in Roman none other than… Jesus. So… yeah.

**Disclaimer:** _The World Ends With You_ is property of Square Enix; _Durarara‼_ is property of Ryohgo Narita and Suzuhito Yasuda. I do not claim any rights.

* * *

**And We All Fall Down**

_Durarara‼ × The World Ends With You_

_

* * *

_

_[Tanaka Taro]_ Have you noticed all those pins lately?

_[Tanaka Taro]_ I thought that was just a lame Shibuya fad…

_[Kanra]_ Oh! That reminds me~~!

_[Kanra] _Have you heard any of those rumors lately?

_[Tanaka Taro]_ What rumors?

_[Kanra]_ Ahh, where've you been? They've been circulating for ages!

_[Setton]_ ?

_[Kanra]_ The Dollars have something that'll supposedly catch the entire city in some grand supernatural scheme…

_[Kanra]_ Black magic, if you will.

_[Setton]_ What?

_[Setton]_ That can't be true.

_[Tanaka Taro]_ Seriously. Sounds like something right out of a manga.

_[Kanra]_ Mmmmmm

_[Kanra]_ But it's kind of scary to think about.

_[Kanra]_ No?

_[Setton]_ Eh? Not at all.

_- Setton-san has left the chat -_

* * *

Even though he'd been driven out of it (and multiple times, too), Ikebukuro was a city that Izaya was fond of. There was a charm about it that always seemed to entice him, because the people there always surprised him in whatever way he expected. After all, people made up cities, and Izaya loved people more than anything in the world. He loved the ways they reacted when put into unfamiliar situations, and he loved observing them, confusing them, and most of all Izaya loved understanding them. Izaya was a humanitarian—by his definition of the word—and when Joshua – who, as it were, was also a humanitarian – confronted him, Izaya did not felt threatened by only a little bit.

See, Izaya enjoyed playing a game that he liked to refer to as simply 'god.' It involved manipulation and in general being an absolute bastard, something which often drew back to the chess motif that he'd seen every which where with subtlety and without it. Basically, Izaya liked being in control and playing mind games, and the idea of being immortal. An end, no matter how many times he had inspired one for others, was something that he was afraid of. That was why he clung to the ideas of mythology, and why Celty's origin and ability interested him greatly. That was why the enigmatic figure that was Joshua bothered him.

For Joshua, as Izaya had learned playing a time-waster's game on the childish Nintendo DS, immortality was very real. For Joshua, while Izaya played his convoluted homebrew of Reversi-Shogi-Blackjack-Chess-Go, godhood was real. In the world of the supernatural, the Composer was one who designed the laws of reincarnation from unpredicted death, and had the ability to restore life to those who had passed – and more. When someone with such ability approached someone who was, in the end, nothing more than human, Izaya wasn't left with much of a choice but to accept the companionship offered. After all, who was Isaiah in the face of Jesus?

And whatever the case, the companionship offered was relevant to Izaya's interests. What Joshua wanted was to play the Reaper's Game on new territory to liven things up. Rumors of the crowd in Ikebukuro had reached his ears, and from what it seemed, everyone in the city that was important was connected to everyone else important. In short, choosing specific people would make for a very entertaining Game. Izaya, as an infamous information broker at the center of just about everything, had been selected to choose the players and reapers. Izaya himself would be the Game Master, a position that he looked upon with utmost pleasure.

Satisfied with the agreement that had been reached between the two, Joshua had left Izaya's apartment with a grin and the words, "You know how to play already, don't you?"

Izaya did, and presently he was alone in his apartment figuring out what his Game would run like. He had already called Namie over (she was on her way, grumbling curses at him, no doubt) to help him with his plans and to keep him awake (he'd been up all night the previous day on IRC). Hopefully this time she'd arrive on time…

…

…She didn't.

Yagiri Namie showed up a whopping two hours late. When she arrived her boss was drooling all over his couch and papers were scattered all over the coffee table. She found among the papers instructions for her, an email address (pinkrainbow[at]yahoo[dot]co[dot]jp), a reminder (on which was a hastily scribbled 'Shizu-chan' crossed out in red ink), and two lists (one, titled 'Players' listed Ryuugamine Mikado, Kida Masaomi, Sonohara Anri, Yagiri Seiji, Harima Mika, and Mikajima Saki; the other, 'Reapers' read Namie, Dotachin &co, and the Black Rider).

Namie added a new contact on her Yahoo account. That night she followed only half of her boss's orders.

* * *

Whenever weird shit happened, ninety-nine percent of the time it had something to do with Izaya. This wasn't something that Heiwajima Shizuo had made up: it was simply fact. Izaya was, had been, and always would be involved in things that made no sense and were more than likely illegal. So why would it be any different now, when despite having slept comfortably in a bed the evening prior, Shizuo found himself waking up on the cold concrete floor of Ikebukuro Station?

With a grunt, Shizuo stood up and dusted off his clothing. It was peculiar, also, that he was dressed in his normal outdoor attire; though he had plenty of Kasuka's gift, and after tiring days he occasionally slept in them, a suit wasn't the most comfortable of sleepwear. Shizuo could feel his blood boiling as the confusion began to settle. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember for sure—was it a fact that he had slept in a bed last night? Actually, he couldn't remember yesterday at all.

"Dammit," Shizuo muttered, "What the hell...?"

It could be a dream, Shizuo thought, but that wouldn't bode well with the fact that he dreamt in black and white; there was also the vague nagging of pain in his left leg, and pain wasn't supposed to be felt in dreams, right? Wait… nagging of pain? Bewildered, Shizuo looked down at his self and noticed something he hadn't before: he'd been shot.

"Huh." It wasn't the first time Shizuo'd been shot and he hadn't noticed. It wouldn't be entirely truthful to say it was the second, either. Shizuo got shot more often than he would have liked to announce to the world, but each time he'd barely noticed and came out of it unscathed. He briefly pondered the idea of someone breaking into his house at night, shooting him, and dragging him out to the train station, but quickly dismissed the thought. He'd have noticed the absence of his bed and punched such a dumbass out of his clothes. Kneeling down to examine the wound, Shizuo thought of a third viable explanation: he was dead.

He hadn't given much thought to the idea of dying. It was just something that people did. Whenever they did something stupid, or got too old, they ended. There wasn't much else to it. Shizuo didn't have much of a belief in an afterlife, or any other religion. It was one of those things about which he didn't really care, and if this train station was a part of another journey of his before the true ending, so be it. It seemed cliché enough.

As Shizuo was contemplating this, he was startled by a vibration in his pocket. Curiously he pulled out his cell phone and saw that he had received a text. The number was restricted. This wasn't _that_ strange, if only because Shizuo used to receive anonymous messages from the Dollars all the time before he'd quit. But when things began to pile up...

Flipping open his phone, he read the message:

_**From:**__ unknown_

_**Subject:**__ Mission, Day 1_

_**Message: **__Make a pact. You have 60 minutes. Fail, and face erasure. –The Reapers._

… and he felt himself laughing. Who was dumb enough to say such childish things and speak for death gods—especially to him? He wondered who might have given out his number to someone stupid and with nothing better to do, and briefly thought of Orihara Izaya. His laughter ceased and at the mere thought of the man's name his rage rose. And at that exact moment, he flinched as if his hand alone had been struck by lightning.

"What the—?" As was to be suspected, Shizuo's attention immediately went down to his hand, and he blinked a few times to make sure he was certain of what he was seeing. There, etched out across his palm in bright red, was a counter that was ticking down from _60:00_. And if that wasn't enough, just as the train in front of him left the station, he rubbed his eyes: floating beside _ikefukuro-zo_ were sigils, glowing red and gigantic – and no one else seemed to notice them.

And was it just him, or were they getting closer?

Well, Shizuo decided, this wouldn't be the first time he'd dreamt of being an amazing Kung-Fu-Action-Ninja-Super-Hero movie (he blamed Yuuhei), and it wouldn't be the last. With a maniacal grin that didn't really suit his bed head, Shizuo grabbed the closest thing he could use as a weapon (which, in this case, happened to be a sign directing people to the bathrooms) and charged.

There was a flash of light.

* * *

There was a flash of light.

There was a flash of light, and then Sonohara Anri woke up from what she was sure was a nightmare, one that she hadn't been frightened by in a long time. She couldn't remember the details, couldn't remember what was so brilliant about it, couldn't remember why having the dream hadn't frightened her the last ten times she'd had it. All she could remember was what it was about: her parents, and the night they had died. The night that, even though she dreamt of it often, Sonohara Anri found that now she couldn't even remember how it had actually went down.

She didn't let it bother her, because she'd trained herself not to be bothered about things that didn't matter anymore. Now she lived in Ikebukuro; now she had friends – the images of Kida-kun and Ryuugamine-kun flashed briefly in her head, and she smiled to herself – who had promised not to leave her; and now she had a reason to be alive.

(She couldn't remember what that reason was, either. Another thing she chose to not let bother her .)

Feeling strangely cheery and melancholy at the same time – as though something had been gained, but something has also been lost – Anri reached for her glasses, and found them to be absent from their usual location. She blinked once, twice, and wondered if she'd slept with them on by accident. She sat up and looked around her bed. But... her bed had disappeared, too. Along with everything else.

"Sonohara-san?" Anri twisted herself to look for the source of the voice that had spoken her name. One hand outstretched to help her to her feet, Anri was surprised to see one Ryuugamine Mikado, and a concerned looking Kida Masaomi standing beside him, both of them sporting identical pins on their clothes: a simple skull on a black background.

Accepting Mikado's hand, Anri said simply, "Ryuugamine-kun. Kida-kun. What…?"

"Anri-chan," Masaomi said with less excitability than usual, "you can see us, then?"

She took him literally at first, and noticed for the first time that she could see perfectly well, even with the absence of her glasses. Mikado was wearing his green sweater and a pair of jeans, and Masaomi was also in his usual clothes for the weekends. She herself donned the Raira Academy uniform. With a gasp she noticed that she, too, had Mikado and Masaomi's new fashion statement pinned onto her clothes.

"What's going on?" she asked, "What is this?" She held the pin up to take a good look at it, and somehow the crowd around them – they were at Ikebukuro Station, she noted – seemed to get _louder_. No, wait, that wasn't the chatter of the people speaking to each other… that was the chatter of their _thoughts_!

_So I was thinking of getting my hair done—_

_The Dollars sure are secretive for a group that invites pretty much anyone—_

'_Baccano'? No, no, maybe it was 'Bacon'—_

_Mother, mother, mother, mother, mother—_

"Sonohara-san!" Mikado's voice cut through the clamor of people and Anri immediately let go of the pin. The silence rebounded inside her skull and she felt a headache coming on. The obvious questions rang through her being again and again: what was going on, and how? Why did she feel like she was missing something, and how could she possibly see without her glasses? Why did she wake up here, why, why, why…

Her thoughts were interrupted when her cell phone beeped, alerting her to a text message that had been received thirty minutes before. Masaomi and Mikado watched her curiously; Masaomi seemed particularly interested in her hand. Anri suspended her confusion at Masaomi's actions and attitude in favor of reading the message.

"Um," said Mikado, his eyes wide as he watched something behind her, "you haven't made a pact yet, have you?"

Anri, nonplussed, could not have the courage to look behind her. "A pact?"

"Yeah, a pact, a partner," Mikado said hurriedly, "without one you can't fight the monsters, and if you can't fight the monsters then you won't survive." His eyes darted nervously towards Masaomi, who nodded.

"Monsters?" was Anri's question, and immediately she thought of Celty, but she had a feeling that the Black Rider wasn't what Mikado was thinking of.

The two boys nodded, and pulled out a few more strange looking pins—wasn't that a Shibuya fad?—from their pockets, pinning them to their shirts. They shared another look before grabbing Anri and pulling her so that she was behind them, their backs to her. Finally, the girl turned around and saw what had been intimidating: a humongous grizzly bear was grinning at them from where she'd just been standing.

"You have to run," Masaomi said evenly, "and find a partner, fast."

Mikado gave her a gentle push forward and gulped. "G-go! We'll handle this one!"

She ran.

There was a flash of light, and despite her better judgment, Anri looked behind her. No one was there.

* * *

_Trust me, trust me, trust me..._

_

* * *

_

**Author's Note: **What do _you _think Shizuo holds most dear? Or Anri, Mikado, and Masaomi?

—What about Izaya?


	3. Right here, beside you

**Author's Notes: **Apologies for the delay. Actually, I hadn't even written this chapter before I was whisked away into the business (and laziness) of summer vacation, so that'll be my excuse this time.

**Disclaimer:** _The World Ends With You_ is property of Square Enix; _Durarara‼_ is property of Ryohgo Narita and Suzuhito Yasuda. I do not claim any rights.

* * *

**And We All Fall Down**

_Durarara‼ × The World Ends With You

* * *

_

Of the numerous suspicious thoughts that Celty had about the entire situation, two circulated endlessly, and refused to stop because Celty knew that they were the key to everything. Celty was of the opinion that these thoughts would remain paramount even after the situation ended – if it _would _end – because that's how shocking they were, and that's how often they spun around her head again and again.

Her first thought, the one that bothered her less but was likely of more significance, was: _There's something bothering Izaya_. It had been something she'd never seen before; Orihara Izaya was always on top of things, so on top that it was despicable. But here, it was obvious that the situation at hand was out of Izaya's control. Irritation harassed him throughout the briefing he'd had with the group of 'Reapers' he'd assembled, and every now and again he would glare out the window as though someone was standing there – unless he happened to be particularly cross with the moon.

The supernatural thing didn't suit Izaya, either. It just wasn't like him. The entire situation wasn't, but he'd been swept into it and so had the rest of Ikebukuro, and there was no going back, no personal choices allowed. Celty wouldn't admit it, but even as a Dullahan, she was kind of scared. Scared for all the people involved, maybe even Izaya, but mostly her fright involved her second thought—

_Shinra didn't recognize me_.

It had occurred only moments ago. Celty, flat-out refusing to use her Reaper's wings to harass the Players, had decided to loiter for most of her shift at Ikebukuro Station. There were no Players within her range at the start, so it was relatively quiet (at least, as quiet as Ikebukuro Station could get). Forty minutes had passed since the mission had been delivered to the Players, and no one had been erased yet, but only one pact had been successfully formed – Mikado and Masaomi were quick at catching on.

That was when it happened. There were two Players in the game that had been added last minute, that the Reapers hadn't been told about before the Game began. Both were Celty's friends. One was more important to her than the other.

"Shinra?" she'd stuffed the phone in his face, hoping very much that he wouldn't be able to see it. Her frequency was set so that she could only be visible in the UG.

But Shinra looked up, and it was the lack of his excited, boyish cry of her name that made it hit Celty immediately. And hard.

He hadn't recognized her. He hadn't launched into a thousand conversations at once at the sight of her, hadn't smiled and reminded her that he'd loved her for as far back as he could remember. Really, the Kishitani Shinra that she'd explained to what was going on, why he should take the skull pin she was offering him, and why he needed a partner immediately wasn't the Shinra she knew at all – he'd lost all his… well, Shinraness.

And for that, no matter the amount of innocence he had this time, Izaya would pay.

* * *

Sonohari Anri ran.

She ran, and she kept on running through the grey masses until she could find someone, anyone. All she needed now was to run into someone – and how strange, she'd never wished for something like that to happen before so badly, ever. An image of Harima Mika flew through her head and a pang of sadness and desperation hit her heart hard. Mika… Anri had clung to her, as she always seemed to cling to people, but now… where was she? Why was Anri incapable of holding onto things? Her fingers; so slippery she had no parents, no close friends, no possessions, no anything. No heart. She had nothing, she was worth nothing, she needed a partner…

Anri spared a look behind her. Mikado and Masaomi were no where to be seen. There was not a trace of them left behind. Anri fisted the skull pin on her clothes, forgetting for a moment the strange sensation that had swept over her the last time she'd done so. Voices and thoughts poured into her head for a second time, and she doubled over in pain, clutching her head and yelling out in agony (_maybe someone will hear me, maybe I'll find a partner!_).

_Mother, mother, mother, mother—_

_I saw the Slasher yesterday, I swear I did—_

_Geez, the gangs have been really active lately—_

_The death toll is gaining, what exactly happened last night?—_

But no one heard her screaming. She was alone; alone, and there were red sigils looming everywhere around her. Mikado has said she needed a partner, and one look at her palms said she only had fifteen minutes left to find one.

Anri stared at the statue of _ikefukuro-zo_. Meeting up with someone there would be a dream.

* * *

What was really stupid, Shizuo thought, was this damn frog. Because seriously, what? It was a frog, and Shizuo didn't like to brag but he was _Shizuo_, and he had _freaking concrete _in his hands and it was definitely not possible for a frog to survive a hit to the head by _freaking concrete_. It was his second frog, and his second makeshift weapon (eventually, he gave up on the first frog, deciding that a heavier weapon was in order), and Shizuo did not plan on a third anything.

Except maybe a third attempt to whack the frog with his _freaking concrete_. It hit the frog straight on and crushed it, but there was no sickening and satisfying sound of the frog being squished into nothingness. In fact, when Shizuo lifted his weapon back up, the frog was in perfectly good condition and promptly blew a poisonous bubble at his face. And the bubble, something that resembled the big ones that Kasuka always made when they were little (Shizuo's had always been kind of pathetic), had the nerve to burn his face. And it hurt so bad that Shizuo was forced to run away from this fight, too. Once he'd escaped the sigil's clutches, the burning went away immediately.

"What the _hell_," was all that Shizuo had the capacity to say, and in his anger he punched _ikefukuro-zo_'s little owl head clean off. "It's just a stupid frog, and I had _freaking concrete_."

"Um," said a small voice suddenly from behind him, "E-excuse me, Heiwajima-san?"

Shizuo turned around furiously, dropping his makeshift weapon. "What?"

There was a girl standing there, small in size but ample sized in… other things. Wait, hadn't he seen her somewhere before? Ah, whatever. On her clothes there was a skull pin, one that looked kind of familiar. Oh, that's right, he had one just like that in his pocket – he'd found it lying on the ground after his first frog fight attempt, and kept it for… some reason. He wasn't sure why, really.

"Ah, those monsters. You're trying to fight them, but you're supposed to make a pact before you can hurt them… that's what I've heard, anyway."

Shizuo raised an eyebrow. "A pact? And then I can destroy these pests?"

She nodded. "Yes, and—"

"Let's do it then," he said, cutting her off. He didn't need an explanation.

Anri didn't argue. They made their pact. Then, without warning, Shizuo picked up the _freaking concrete _he'd left abandoned and charged at the frogs like they were Izaya's head. This time, they had the decency to die.

* * *

As it were, Izaya had absolutely nothing to do with the matter that Celty was most concerned about. In fact, he wasn't even aware of Shinra being a part of the Game until Celty stormed into his office, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, thrust him against the wall, and declared that once this was all over, she was going to rip him apart limb from limb.

Izaya tilted his head to the side, and with a curious smile because that was just his style (and his style was _definitely _going to get him killed some day), said, "I… have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. Could you expand for us non-mythological types?" In response Celty brought her other hand to his neck, threatening to choke him here and now. Unlike some people involved, Izaya wasn't immortal.

In the corner of the room, Yagiri Namie sat in her usual desk as though today was just another day at work and Izaya was threatened every other lunch break (which he usually was). Without looking up from her work, she answered in Celty's place, "I think she's on about Kishitani and Heiwajima being apart of the Game."

From his comfortable place against the wall with Celty nearly choking him, Izaya glanced at Namie through the smoky space where Celty's neck ended, his eyes narrowed. "Shizu-chan?"

Celty, too, looked at Namie for an answer, because the tone that Izaya was using clearly stated that he was completely unaware of the addition of the two extra Players. Namie, for her part, had no humility, and still typing away at her computer desk put in, "Yes. I added Heiwajima Shizuo and Kishitani Shinra to the roster of Players, and no, that is not illegal, _Orihara-kun_, because Joshua approved it."

"Ah, Celty-san, I'm choking here, so if you wouldn't mind – ?"

Celty politely let go and pulled out her PDA, immediately typing in, "Who's Joshua?"

Izaya read it aloud like a child, slow and spaced, as though he was just learning how to read. "Who… is… Joshua?" Putting on a plastic smile, he responded, "That's a good question. Who _is _Joshua?"

"Your boss," Namie put in helpfully.

"My boss," confirmed Izaya. "Thank you, disloyal assistant."

Namie laughed. "There's more disloyalty where that came from, _Orihara-kun_."

Izaya exaggerated his bewilderment. "Worse than Shizu-chan?"

"It's likely."

"Oh," said Izaya, "That won't do. Celty-san, I know this is very rude of us, but could I trouble you to leave so that I may have a word with my disloyal bitch?"

And then Celty found herself standing outside of Izaya's office. Her latest thought:

_What just happened?_

Then:

_There's something bothering Izaya – it's probably about Joshua._

And then:

_Shinra didn't recognize me.

* * *

_

There!

Over there – that girl had a skull pin on her shirt, just as the Reaper he'd met earlier had told him, just as he had on his lab coat.

"Hey!" Shinra called out to the girl, and thankfully, she heard him. There were only seven minutes left, finally –

"Oh, thank god, you haven't made a pact, have you?" When Shinra shook his head, she continued, smiling, "Okay sensei, let's team up!"

And they did.

"I'm Kishitani Shinra," he introduced, offering his hand once the timer disappeared. "What's your name?"

The girl hesitated for a moment, and then took it, murmuring, "I'm… Celty. Celty Sturluson."

They shook.

"Celty," said Shinra, testing the name on his tongue. "That's a nice name."

* * *

_Only for you (I'm right here, beside you).

* * *

_

**Author's Notes: **And that's the end of Day One!

A reviewer asked why Shizuo wasn't healed at the start of the game, since Neku was at the start of his. My answer is that Namie added him and Shinra to the roster _after _Izaya reviewed the other Players (Mikado, Masaomi, Anri, Mika, Seiji, and Saki), so their situation is a little different. Speaking of Seiji and Saki, they're now teamed up (once again the work of Namie); sorry, but you don't get to see their first day.

Anyway, any thoughts as to the situation with Neku? Will he be involved in this at all? What about the other TWEWY characters?


End file.
